


You Have All Of Me

by squirtturtle665



Series: Inspired by Book Quotes [1]
Category: Inception (2010), The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eames is his groundskeeper, Fake Marriage, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jealous Eames (Inception), Kinda Fluffy, M/M, Rich Arthur, eames won't fuck arthur while he's drunk because he's a RESPECTABLE man, kinda smutty, tipsy arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 12:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16765441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirtturtle665/pseuds/squirtturtle665
Summary: "What's the use of temptations if we don't yield to them?"The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue - Mackenzi LeeBasically, Eames is too much for Arthur to handle, so Arthur says fuck it and lets it happen.





	You Have All Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this has definitely been done before, but I'm starting this new series where I let quotes from some of my favorite books inspire fics, and this is the first one. So here ya go! This one is inspired by a quote from Mackenzi Lee's wonderful novel that you should definitely check out if you haven't!

_"What's the use of temptations if we don't yield to them?"_

Arthur crowds Eames against the wall, gun pressing up against Eames’ stomach. It’s not the first time Eames has been pressed up against this particular wall, but the gun is new.

“Get out.” 

Arthur’s voice is deep and dark and makes Eames’ skin tingle in the best way. If Arthur was serious about Eames “getting out”, his lips wouldn’t be as close to his as they are right now. As far as Eames is concerned, the gun is just a formality.

“Kiss me or kill me, darling, but make up your mind,” Eames says smugly.

Arthur presses the gun harder into Eames’ stomach. “How about I do neither —” Arthur’s hot breath travels up to Eames’ ear— “and you _get the fuck out of here_."

The tone of Arthur’s voice makes Eames want to spin him around and take him right here, make him yell obscene things for everyone downstairs to hear.

Eames chuckles. “You’re no fun.” He runs a finger along the vein that’s ever so slightly sticking out of Arthur’s neck. “One kiss. You can give me that, can’t you?”

“You know how much tonight means to me,” Arthur reasons, his voice a warning alarm in Eames’ ear.

“Ah, how could I have forgotten? All of your ‘friends’ gathering in your big, fancy house, begging for money they think they deserve.”

Arthur’s lips now hover over Eames’, and Eames can almost taste him, but then Arthur pulls away entirely. Eames has to restrain himself from reaching out to Arthur to pull him back.

“This is dangerous,” Arthur says, all anger faded from his voice.

Arthur’s back is to Eames as he drops the gun on his bed. He walks over to a table that is somehow necessary for his massive bedroom and lowers his head down, bracing his hands against the edge of the table. Eames wonders if Arthur is teasing him by sticking his ass out like that or if it’s naturally like that.

“Which part?” Eames asks, pushing himself off the wall. “You cheating on your wife with your groundskeeper?” He takes his time walking over to Arthur. “The lot of people downstairs who have no clue that I’m up here with you? The loaded gun you just pointed at me?” Eames presses up against Arthur from behind. “This lovely arse of yours? What’s dangerous, Arthur?”

His tone is teasing, condescending almost, but Eames knows he’s spot on with every single answer. The whole situation is dangerous and has been for a while. Eames presses a single kiss to the back of Arthur’s neck and hears him release a long, shaky breath.

“I was going to say that it’s dangerous of you to ask me for one kiss and expect me to resist the temptation to do whatever I want to you.”

Eames smiles against his skin. “Is that right?”

Arthur turns around and pulls Eames closer. “You are going to ruin me. I promised myself that nothing would distract me tonight, not even you. And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” Eames says quietly, his breath grazing across Arthur’s lips. “Can I kiss you now?”

“God, please,” Arthur says. The desperation in his voice makes Eames’ knees weak.

“So pretty when you beg.” Eames traces Arthur’s jawline with his thumb and marvels at the way Arthur leans into his touch.

There’s nothing and then there’s everything all at once. Eames, who thought he was the one in control, is proven otherwise when he finally presses his lips to Arthur’s. Arthur clenches his hands into the front of Eames’ shirt and pushes him against the wall. Even though the gun is absent this time, Eames’ heart is beating infinitely faster.

The kiss is dirty and rough. It’s only a matter of time before Mal comes knocking on the door, wondering why Arthur hasn’t given his speech yet. Thinking of Mal ignites something in Eames, a jealous rage at the fact that everyone gets to see Arthur with her. He trails kisses down to Arthur’s neck. The second he starts biting, Arthur pulls away from him.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he warns, walking backward.

Eames remains against the wall, breathless. “Stop resisting,” he says.

“What?”

“You have all of me to do as you please, Arthur. You’ve _had_ all of me. Stop resisting the temptation.”

Eames wants to add that he needs all of Arthur, too. Desperately. If this is what Arthur looks like when he’s resisting Eames, all flustered and hot, then Eames can’t wait to see him when he’s not resisting. But he knows how much Arthur hides and how hard it is for him to accept certain parts of himself. Eames has to respect the boundaries that Arthur has even if Arthur doesn’t explicitly communicate them or understand them himself.

Arthur goes over to the mirror hanging on the wall next to Eames and readjusts his bowtie. “Do you think I enjoy having to forcibly pull myself away from you? Do you think I don’t want to give in to what I really want – who I really want?”

Eames places a kiss to the side of Arthur’s neck, and he visibly relaxes.

“What’s stopping you?”

The silence that hangs in the air is a shock to Eames. In all the other variations of this conversation they’ve had, Arthur has always spouted out a million different excuses as to why he couldn’t be with Eames.

“Well,” Eames says, trying not to sound too amused. “I’ll leave you to prepare for your big speech.”

Eames gets halfway to the door before Arthur stops him. “Eames?” he asks, voice strained.

Eames can’t help but smile to himself, knowing exactly what’s coming next. He doesn’t even turn around.

“Will I see you later?”

It’s the same question every single time Eames leaves Arthur’s bedroom. Morning, afternoon, night, whenever. It’s as if Arthur thinks someone who has developed the kinds of feelings Eames has for him could just walk right out of his life that easily, like it’s happened before.

Eames gives the same response as always. “’Course, love.”

***

Much later, after all the guests have left, Eames wanders into the kitchen. There are hundreds of empty champagne glasses lined up next to the sink and even more dinner plates stacked dangerously high. Arthur is sitting at the counter amidst the mess with his head down, breathing deeply.

Eames smiles to himself, but keeping his surroundings in mind and knowing that Mal could be around at any second, he gently jostles Arthur’s arm instead of kissing him awake like he wants to.

“Hmm?” Arthur grumbles without picking his head up, annoyed.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” Eames suggests. “I’ll do the washing up.”

“Why don’t _you_ go to bed?” Arthur retorts.

Eames snorts. “A bit drunk there, are we?”

Arthur finally lifts his head up. “Not as much as I’d like to be.”

Eames walks over to the fridge to get some water for the two of them. “Where’s Mal?” he asks, trying not to sound as curious as he actually is.

“Spending the night at Cobb’s.” Eames stops in his tracks, and Arthur’s eyes widen. “Should not have said that.”

Leave it to tipsy Arthur to reveal more information than he should. Normally, when Arthur asks Eames to spend the night, he’ll vaguely mention that Mal is away on business, but now Eames wonders if that was all a lie.

“Cobb? Dom Cobb?”

Arthur sighs. “Yeah, that one.”

Arthur looks genuinely miserable, and Eames suspects it’s for a number of different reasons. But if the main reason is that Mal is also cheating on him, then Eames is going to have to get the fuck out of here. With how he feels about Arthur, he can’t be in the business of cheering him up about this, and Eames doesn’t think that makes him a bad person, just sadly, terribly normal. 

Eames hands Arthur a water bottle. “Arthur, what in the living fuck is going on?”

Arthur doesn’t respond until he downs the entire bottle. “Mal and I aren’t married.”

Eames stares at Arthur, his heart beating through his chest, mouth going dry. “Go on.”

“What – you’re not surprised?”

Eames considers Arthur’s question for a moment. Arthur is not the kind of man to cheat on anyone; he’s too loyal. There’s also the fact that Mal and Arthur are never touchy-feely with each other, even when there are guests around. Eames doesn’t know Mal all that well, and aromanticism is a thing, but he didn’t want to assume anything. He’s always suspected something like this, but now that he knows the truth, it all makes sense.

“Not really,” he answers. “I guess you two put on a convincing enough show in front of guests, but when there’s no one important around, it’s kind of obvious.” 

Arthur furrows his eyebrows. “You’re important.”

Eames smiles. “You know what I mean, love. Did you not think you could trust me?” When Arthur hesitates, Eames adds, “You trusted me enough to tie you up and gag you in bed.”

Arthur’s cheeks go red. “That’s _so_ different.”

Eames chuckles. “So why the fake marriage?”

“It made us appear as a stronger team as far as public appearances go. Cobb is… well, he can be a little unstable. As for myself, I’ve heard the comments these people make. It’s like they’re living in the seventies. Coming out as gay would have been suicidal.”

Knowing the extent of Arthur’s struggle makes Eames hurt even more for him. No one should have to go through this, to feel as though the world around them will drop them like a fly by knowing who they truly are. But Eames understands it. These people Arthur has to deal with on a daily basis are ruthless and terrible, and Eames wants nothing more than to rip their tiny hearts out for their complete lack of decency toward human beings who are any different from them.

“What do you want in life, Arthur?” Eames asks.

The question almost seems to stun Arthur as if no one has asked him that before.

He’s quiet for a second before responding, “When I first met you, you were this – this temptation that I hated myself for wanting, but it never went away. I want you, Eames. I want you.”

Eames tries to ignore the loudness of his pulse in his head. “As I said before, you have me. You will always, always have me.”

Arthur continues, “I want to leave this house and the people who don’t matter behind. You and Mal are the only people who matter to me.” He laughs to himself. “It’s kind of funny, the woman I’m fake married to and the man I’ve had to pretend not to have feelings for are the only people I care about in this world.”

Eames smiles at that. “Mal knows about us, then?”

“Of course she knows.”

“She’s never said anything to me.”

“That’s because she’s under the impression that you’re terrified of her, and she didn’t want to scare you off.”

Eames finishes his water. “To be fair, I am terrified of her. In a good way, though,” he adds.

“Fair enough.” He pauses. “Thank you for being here tonight.”

“You invited me, love; I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Arthur smiles shyly. “Seeing the way you looked at me made the speech less unbearable.

Eames walks up to Arthur. “And how was I looking at you?”

Arthur turns around on the stool so he’s facing Eames instead of the counter. “Like you respect me.”

Eames' heart lurches. “I more than respect you, Arthur. Come here, gorgeous,” he says, leaning down to kiss Arthur.

The kiss deepens and turns into so much more with both Arthur and Eames now holding nothing back. No more resisting. Eames promises himself that as long as he’s alive, he will make sure Arthur never feels like he has to resist.

Eames makes his way down to Arthur’s neck, not caring anymore about who will see the bite marks. Arthur doesn’t care, either, because he makes no move to stop him.

In between kisses, Eames breathes out, “I think you can tell Mal to spend a few days at Cobb’s if she’d like.”

Arthur grabs the back of Eames’ head to hold him on a particular spot of his neck. “I don’t know, the house is big enough for her not to hear us.”

Eames knows Arthur is just egging Eames on, so Eames gives him what he wants. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to the growing red spot on Arthur’s neck that he loves so much. Arthur lets out a sigh as Eames’ lips leave him.

“Are you sure about that?” Eames asks, taking in Arthur’s already wrecked appearance. “You’ve been known to be quite loud with this filthy mouth of yours.” He presses a thumb to Arthur’s bottom lip, and Arthur’s bites it gently. “And besides,” Eames continues, pulling his thumb away from Arthur’s teeth and turning around to look into the living room, “I would love to see how your tight body looks pressed up against your wallpaper with me fingering you from behind. I can almost picture you sprawled out on this new, expensive carpet your guests were raving about tonight, taking me so beautifully.” Eames runs a finger along Arthur’s kitchen table, smiling to himself when he hears Arthur’s breathing deepen. “I could bend you over this table and have you for breakfast. Maybe I’d let you take control, darling. Would you like it if I was on my knees, sucking you off, while you sat at your desk? You could use that mouth of yours to tell me everything you want me to do to you.”

When Eames finally turns back around, knowing full well what he’s just done, he sees Arthur gripping the sides of the stool so hard that his knuckles are white.

“What do you think about that, Arthur?” Eames asks.

Arthur looks up at Eames with pleading eyes. “God, Eames, I need it. Please. I need you to fuck me,” he begs.

As much as it kills Eames, he needs to reign it in. He’s not going further with Arthur when he’s drunk, wouldn’t dream of it. He’s teasing Arthur, and he knows it’s cruel to leave him hanging like this, but it’ll make it so much better for them both in the morning.

Eames lets his hot breath trail up to Arthur’s ear. “What kind of respectable man would I be if I took advantage of you like this?”

That seems to sober Arthur up a bit. “What – no. Eames, you can’t. I’m not even that drunk. Please, I’ll be so good for you.”

Eames kisses Arthur gently. “Dearest, you’re always good for me. So good. And you will be, but tomorrow, yeah? I want you rested and totally sober so that you’ll remember everything.” Eames holds out his hand. “Come on.”

Arthur rolls his eyes but takes Eames’ hand. “What a gentleman.”

Tonight, Arthur will allow Eames to cuddle him to sleep, but tomorrow... tomorrow is when resistance and reluctance can go to hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Also I should mention that this is my first adventure into smut. I know, I know, this is not as smutty as a lot of things on here, but I feel like it goes from 0-100 real quick at the end. Any and all comments are appreciated, especially about how to make this better or if I'm just overthinking everything.  
> Okay, have a good day!


End file.
